


Liquid Courage

by joeriezeilany



Series: HashiMada Sand Pit [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Time Travel, Warring States Period (Naruto)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeriezeilany/pseuds/joeriezeilany
Summary: "Are you drunk?""What? No!" Madara tilted his head to the side and blinked owlishly. A sheepish smile overtook his innocent expression, "I am tipsy though." He admitted, dangling a flask between them."Give me that." Hashirama sighed, exasperated, "Why are you even drinking? Did something happen?"Madara’s eyebrows furrowed together, "Happen? What?" he shook his head. "No. No. I- that's my liquid courage," He gestured at the flask "You're holding my liquid courage,” he hummed to himself thoughtfully, “Maybe you'll need it too, Later... Maybe."
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: HashiMada Sand Pit [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870315
Comments: 62
Kudos: 208





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for my shadowbeta whom at her request I will not name. Without you I doubt I'll even have courage to post this. Maybe. Definitely without editing. Anyway, yes! I love you so much! You're a godsend Darling!
> 
> I'm not a native english speaker so forgive me for any mistakes we missed in editing. :))
> 
> Have fun! I hope you like it!

There was a messenger bird waiting for him at the windowsill. A  _ very _ familiar bird. Hashirama rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before taking another look. It took a few seconds to register that, yes, that is Madara's falcon, and took an embarrassing amount of gaping to notice the unassuming slip of paper tied to one of its feet. Such a little thing, barely worth anything, and yet, it felt as if the world would shake apart if Hashirama touched it.

Taking the tiny scroll carefully, with slightly trembling fingers, he read the contents. 

_ Meet me at the river immediately. I will be waiting. Don't be late, idiot. _

Kami, how long had it been since he had seen that rushed, spiky scrawl? Hashirama tugged the end of his ponytail, biting back his initial instinct to fling himself out of the window in front of him and run to the river. It had been  _ years _ since he’d last talked to Madara outside the battlefield, and to meet with him now...

It didn't even cross his mind to refuse, or even double take at the impulsive demand. Madara has always been impulsive. Always driven by his emotions. He can tell by the handwriting alone that the note was written in rush. So like Madara. Impatient as always. The odd little note captured Madara so  _ perfectly- _ always in a rush, that one- that Hashirama had the odd desire to keep it

Smiling to himself, he took a few moments to stretch out his chakra, sensing the people within the perimeter of the house. Tobirama was out on a mission so it would be easy for him to slip out of the compound, and His father was busy with clan matters and probably wouldn't bother him for a couple of days. They did just clash with the Uchiha days ago. 

With the coast clear, he merrily made his way to the river, wondering what Madara wanted. A casual call perhaps? Or business? 

Frowning a little, he tried to recall if something happened that would make Madara call on him for business. Izuna was not included in their last clash. Tajima was occupied with his father as always. Then him with Madara. Although, Madara did seem a bit distracted last time. Maybe something happened? 

He frowned as his heart rate picked up. He sped up, trying to shake the thought from his head.. 

When he landed near the river, he could see Madara on the other side in the open, leaning on a tree. His mood lifted when he saw that Madara, at least, was uninjured.

"Madara!" he called out, bounding across the river. 

Madara's head shot up at that. "HASHIRAMA!" he cheerily shouted. 

"Are you drunk?" 

"What? No!" Madara tilted his head to the side and blinked owlishly. A sheepish smile overtook his innocent expression, "I am tipsy though." He admitted, dangling a flask between them. 

"Give me that." Hashirama sighed, exasperated, "Why are you even drinking? Did something happen?" 

Madara’s eyebrows furrowed together, "Happen? What?" he shook his head. "No. No. I- that's my liquid courage," He gestured at the flask "You're holding my liquid courage,” he hummed to himself thoughtfully, “Maybe you'll need it too, Later... Maybe."

"Courage? For what?" Hashirama felt a bit lost and wary too. Something was going on with Madara, he was not one to act like this. Unsure and fumbling was usually Hashirama’s role. Madara was strangely open, vulnerable, almost, in a way that was foriegn compared to the man’s usually spiky countenance, "What's going on Madara?" 

"I had an epifan- Epipf- Effiepun- I think of something! Thought of something? Epiphany! Yes that's the word! I had an epiphany!" 

Madara looks so satisfied so Hashirama didn't have the heart to interrupt him. 

"You" he said while pointing at him. "You are Senju Hashirama. You are my best friend. You're very important to me." He takes a step closer with every sentence, until he is right in front of him, "You. Are. A Thief."

Hashirama felt a tinge of hurt, "A thief? Why?" 

"Because you stole my heart." Madara lamented. "I didn't even notice! I didn't think you with your bowl cut and your stupid smile would get so close." 

He was looking at him with wide eyes and Hashirama thought, almost absently, that he might be the only one that could get as close to an Uchiha as Madara was to him at the moment and not die a gruesome, genjustsu-filled death.

Madara was saying something more but Hashirama's brain was stuck somewhere in 'you stole my heart' and he can't help but stare. And stare. And stare some more because that couldn't- Madara? Surely not? But he's still here and looking at him with those eyes and his brain is melting because MADARA JUST SAID HE STOLE HIS HEART??

"HASHIRAMA! Are you even listening to me?" And suddenly there was hurt in those beautiful eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Was he even  _ worthy _ of that hurt? That- dare he say it- love? He was clumsy, and scatterbrained and Madara… Madara was worth so much more than that.

"I- Madara" He swallowed, his eyes darting away from Madara’s as he searched for words. Thank you? I love you? I appreciate it? Why me? He doesn't know what he feels. The thought of hurting Madara makes his chest hurt for some reason.

Madara scrambled to cover his hurt, stepping away from Hashirama and looking down. "I just- I just want you to know that. I want to be able to tell you this. That you're very important to me." 

Hashirama stepped forward, lifting Madara’s chin with a gentle hand., "You are very important to me as well Madara,” he said firmly, “You're my best friend- but these are dark times. We would both be forced to face each other on the battlefield. And... I do not want to hurt you." He desperately hoped that Madara would understand- he didn't want Madara to take this the wrong way and accidentally hurt him, not again. Even the very  _ thought _ of Madara leaving and walking away is enough to bring him to his knees. He still vividly remembers the empty,  _ hopeless  _ feeling when Madara turned his back from him in this very river. He needed to look closely at himself- this wasn’t something someone could help him with. 

Madara smiled wryly and took a step back. "I know that. Our fathers have the habit of pitting us against each other."

There was that strange tightening in his chest again. "Madara I-" 

"Sleep with me."

Hashirama was taken aback, "What?" 

"Sleep with me," Madara repeated, eyes intent "Make love to me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been sitting on this chapter for two weeks now jhfksdbfkjsbdfkjlksdnk
> 
> here ya go. this is the best I can offer. ><
> 
> thank ever so much to the two wonderful people that look this up for me! ilysm

> He landed with a thud. Pain rippled throughout his weakened body, the suddenness of the pain paralyzed him, he couldn’t even move his limbs which refused to twitch. The only sound that filled his hearing was a deafening ringing. As he laid there, recovering from his fall, he tried to open his eyes only to find he lacked the energy to. Madara thought he blacked out for a moment because the next thing he knew, there’s a painfully familiar presence, a presence he could recognise in a heartbeat, that appeared next to him. 
> 
> “Is that you, Hashirama?” he whispered, too weak to attempt anything more.
> 
> “Hm,” Hashirama grunted.
> 
> There was a pause as if they're waiting for something, or perhaps trying to find the words to say. He couldn’t tell, his mind still dizzied with pain. With each passing second he felt himself slipping away slowly. A small part of himself thought, ‘ _ it’s okay. He’s here. That’s all that matters _ .’ It took a few moments more before he managed to find the energy to force out a few more words from his mouth. He wanted to talk to him. Just this one time. With Hashirama, it was very easy to just open up and spill everything.
> 
> “I guess neither you, nor I could achieve what we wanted,” Madara said wryly, too cynical even in his last moments. 
> 
> “It's never that easy!” Hashirama rebuked. “Our job is to do all that we can, while we're still alive, and then bequeath the rest for future generations to accomplish.” 
> 
> “So naive, as usual.” 
> 
> Hashirama chuckled.
> 
> “You… were always… the optimist.” Madara managed to get out between short breaths. “But perhaps… that is the correct path.” He was fading away, he could feel it. “My dream… was squashed. But your dream… still lives on.” He could feel the tears flood in his eyes, threatening to spill over the dams of his eyelids. He wanted to say more.
> 
> “We were both too hasty. We didn't need to fulfill our dreams ourselves. It was more important to cultivate those who would come after us to whom we could entrust our dreams,” Hashirama’s voice murmured sadly. He could see in his mind's eye the downturn of those lips and that little furrow of his brows.
> 
> Madara huffed. “Which means I would have failed anyway. Since I always hated someone… standing behind me…” he chuckled a hollow laugh, voice drenched with defeat. Hashirama was the only one that managed to always sneak up on him. Even at the height of madness, he couldn’t quite let go of Hashirama, so it seemed.
> 
> “When we were kids… You once said we're shinobi and we don't know when we'll die. And that for neither side to die, we'd both have to reveal what's inside of us and pour each other drinks to toast like brothers. But we're both about to die,” Hashirama said. There was something in Hashirama's voice. He couldn't see him but it reminded him of the time when they were standing on that cliff. Hashirama told him he wanted him to be the Hokage, and asked for what to name the village. Something in his chest tightened. “Right now, we can drink together, as war buddies.” 
> 
> “War buddies… Huh?” 
> 
> “Well… I Guess… that's okay… By…”
> 
> _ I guess that’s all we’re ever going to be _

* * *

Acclimating back to the Warring State Era is something that Madara never thought he needed to do. If somebody asked him if time travel is possible he’d probably laugh in their faces. Then again coming back from the dead is also something he once considered impossible. Perhaps he should reconsider the plausibility of time travelling.

Seeing Izuna again was agonizing, more wretched than being stabbed in the heart. Here is his younger brother, alive again. He vowed there and then that he’d never let him die this time. Izuna would live, and grow old. He’d be there at the founding of their village. He’d be there laughing at him while he floundered around Hashirama. Madara’s prepared to do anything this time.

Ahh, speaking of Hashirama. If the mere sight of Izuna was enough to drag him to his knees, he was anxious to know what seeing Hashirama would do to him. Just days ago he had met him across the battlefield, crossing blades again, just as they had always done. It was so easy to fall into habits with him. Were it not for Zetsu, he’d probably throw the fight early on. It was just so heart wrenching. 

Zetsu. He needs to take care of that abomination, once and for all. He won’t ever be influenced again. Not this time. And he’d make sure  _ it _ would never lay  _ it’s _ slimy hands on Izuna again. 

_ Never.  _

Over his dead stinking body.

* * *

Planning the hunt took days. Days that he also spent with Izuna, marvelling at how young his brother looked. Madara remembers Obito being this young, and  _ oh, Obito. _ Regret gnawed at his core over what he did to the child. Now that he doesn’t have a seal on his heart, he was able to look at those moments and  _ feel. _ Figure out why he did the things he did back then. Realizing that for all he schemed Obito’s life, he did treat the child as his own. He never did have a child. Falling into Zetsu’s trap and being consumed by it. 

With a plan in place, convincing his father to let him go should be easier this time around. Madara only needed to mention Hashirama and that this training trip would help him figure out new ways of attack and thus, surpass Hashirama in skills, and his father agreed and let him go.

But first, before anything else, he wanted to see Hashirama. In the flesh, touch him, make sure he was alive and hale, that nothing overtly disastrous happened to him. 

Gathering up the courage to see him was  _ hard _ though. The last time he saw him was before he died. When they talked and he had apologized for everything in his own way. And when Hashirama said they could have drinks now, he knew he was forgiven. 

After looting around the encampment for some alcohol, for he remembers Izuna once saying that drinking alcohol is like drinking Liquid Courage, that apparently it had helped him approach some girls and loosen up to them.

Madara didn’t drink often, but he figured this time it would be okay. He could use the help to loosen his tongue. Otherwise he’d just snarl and bristle at Hashirama. He had enough self awareness to know that much. 

When his sight finally began to blur somewhat and his mind lightened with inebriation, he penned a note to Hashirama and sent it with his fastest bird. He was already at the river at this point throwing rocks and drinking every time one skipped all the way to the other side, which was all the time. 

Madara wondered what he'd say to Hashirama, this time. He didn’t consider their fight last week, the mere thought of looking Hashirama in the eyes, to talk to him again since then, left him breathless with fear. Tendrils of worry began to entangle him, how would he be able to say what he wanted to say to Hashirama, if just the thought of him left him ill with unease. He woke up that morning disoriented and confused. He couldn’t even tell what’s up from what’s down. The only reason why he fought as well as he did was because of a lifetime of reflexes. Izuna even commented that something seemed wrong about him, of course there’s something wrong! He didn’t expect to ever wake up again! Adding to that, he was immediately thrust into a fight with Hashirama...well, at least something remained the same.

Ah, the last week gave him a chance to make sense of what he felt in the last minutes of his life. Loving Hashirama, huh. He never expected that. And he was sure, were Izuna still alive at that point he’d have laughed himself silly. Really! Taking a century to figure out your feelings about your best friend. He shook his head, leaning against the tree. He guessed this was why a lot of people told him he had a stick up his ass. He was determined to be a little loose this time around. If he lived anyway. 

"Madara!" he heard Hashirama call out. 

Immediately,his train of thought completely derailed, he cheered with a slightly slurred voice full of tipsy joy, "HASHIRAMA!" 

"...Are you drunk?" Hashirama asked him after a pause, the crease of his brow belying his bewilderment.

"What? No!" Madara tilted his head to the side, confused. "I am tipsy though," he smiled, dangling the flask of liquor between them.  _ And oh, it’s almost finished. _

"Give me that. Why are you even drinking? Did something happen?" Hashirama asked him while taking the flask, though his face was a perfect picture of indifference, he could see the concern brewing in Hashirama’s eyes.

"Happen? What?" Hashirama wasn’t making any sense today. Nothing happened as far as he was aware of. Well, except for the unexpected awakening in the past. "No. No. I- that's my liquid courage," he gestured at the flask. 

"You're holding my liquid courage.” Because that’s what it is and he understood now what Izuna had meant back then. “Maybe you'll need it too,” Yes, he would. Because he was gonna tell Hashirama now. Before he ran out of courage. “Later... Maybe."

"Courage? For what?" confusion painted prettily on Hashirama’s face. "What's going on Madara?" 

"I had an epifan- Epipf- Effiepun- I think of something! Thought of something? Epiphany! Yes that's the word! I had an epiphany!" Hah! Yes! Madara mentally patted himself on the back. His tongue though tied still managed to roll the words out of his mouth.

"You," he pointed at Hashirama. He needed to make a point. "You are Senju Hashirama. You are my best friend. You're very important to me." He takes a stumbling step closer to him with every sentence, until he is right in front of Hashirama, "You. Are. A Thief."

Hashirama was frowning, why is he frowning? "A thief? Why?" 

"Because you stole my heart," Madara lamented, his tipsied voice brimming with heartache. "I didn't even notice! I didn't think you with your bowl cut and your stupid smile would get so close." He leaned closer and looked him in the eyes.  _ What beautiful eyes, he could drown in those chocolate pools of his _ . “Hikaku told me I was explicitly oblivious, but I didn’t expect to be that oblivious?!” Madara continued, “I wondered why Naori was giving me that look of hers every time she saw us together back then. I guess it was obvious to them huh.” He would’ve said more but Hashirama got that look in his eyes that says he’s not listening.

"HASHIRAMA! Are you even listening to me?"  _ Madara said a lot of things but he’s not even listening? What is this injustice?  _ He figured he deserved it, what with all the things he’d done to Hashirama. But he didn’t expect it to hurt this much?

"I- Madara," Hashirama started, looking like those times he was starting to placate an angry Clan Head.

Madara cut him off before he said something he definitely didn’t want to hear right now. "I just- I just want you to know that. I want to be able to tell you this. That you're very important to me." 

Hashirama stepping forward, and lifting his chin gently was something Madara didn't anticipate. "You are very important to me as well Madara,” he said firmly, “You're my best friend- but these are dark times. We would both be forced to face each other on the battlefield. And... I do not want to hurt you." Oh he was right. He didn’t want to hear this. It hurt too much. He felt like Hashirama stabbed him at the heart again.

Madara smiled wryly and took a step back. "I know that. Our fathers have the habit of pitting us against each other."

"Madara, I-" 

"Sleep with me," He cut Hashirama off, his mouth spewed the words, with a mind of its own..

Hashirama was taken aback, "What?" 

"Sleep with me," Madara repeated, that’s a thought. "Make love to me." He wouldn’t be able to hurt him to get some of his DNA. Fucking is a method that wouldn’t hurt anyone. He probably would need the rinnegan again sometime in the future. Maybe even while dealing with Zetsu. 

“Madara,” Hashirama said, frowning. “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“I will not take advantage of you like that.” 

“I asked you, idiot. You wouldn’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me.” Was Hashirama always this confusing?

“No,” he said firmly. Taking him by the shoulders and maneuvering him deeper in the forest. “You need to sleep this off, Madara. No more drinking.”

“You always were such a killjoy,” Madara bemoaned. He turned around and pointed at Hashirama’s face, his finger touching the tip of his nose. “I’m leaving soon, and I won’t see you for so long. And the last words you’ll say to me is no?” He pouted. “For shame, Hashirama. For shame.”

“Leaving? Why are you leaving? Where are you going?” Ooohhh, Hashirama’s frowning now. Is he upset? He hopes he’s upset. Madara’s gonna miss that sad mug of his.

“I am going hunting!” Madara said grandly. “I told father I'm going on a training trip to catch up to you. He was explicitly disappointed with the results of our last fight. So he agreed without much fuss.”

“But you said you’re going hunting?”

“YES! I am! There’s some things I have to take care of,” he gestured wildly. “I'm not going to tell you what though. That’s a secret.” 

Hashirama was still frowning at him. Ah, sometimes it’s too hard pleasing Hashirama.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.” Madara rolled his eyes and took Hashirama’s face between his hands and smiled sweetly. “I’m going to miss you and your sad mug.”

What happened next was something he was sure both of them never expected.

Hashirama kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that bit over there at the top was taken directly from the anime. the dialogue anyway, I just sprinkled some goody thoughts in between *cackles*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys, i'm so sorry! I planned for this to have a somewhat regular updates but real life was a bitch. jksdfhkdsjfsdjf
> 
> Anyway, here is a new chapter! It's late, but better late than never, yeah? *nervous chuckle*
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY BETAS! Really guys, i'd be dead without you. I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! <3 <3 <3
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Hashirama was worried, it had been  _ months _ since he last saw Madara. No rumors, no word of him, nothing.  _ Hunt _ , what does he mean by hunt?  _ Who _ is he hunting?  _ Why? _

With Madara clouding his thoughts, his everyday routine is faltering, so much so that even his father’s increasingly frequent punishments grow ever more ferocious. But he can’t help it.  _ This is Madara we’re talking about.  _ He can’t just leave it be. He’s on tenterhooks. The more time that passes, the more anxious he gets.  _ What if something went wrong? Who would help him? He’s alone and he’s hunting someone...  _

Hashirama pushed away from his desk with a frustrated groan. He needed to get out, blow off some steam. 

Training, yes. A distraction, from everything. He needed it so badly.

* * *

_ Finally.  _ Madara thought, panting as he watched the Black Zetsu burn in the unforgiving flames of Amaterasu.  _ Dealing with that pest was so troublesome _ . He remembered the harrowing year of planning, hunting and setting the bait. Merely staking out the usual haunts that he could remember didn’t cut it.  _ But it was a start,  _ which had paid off handsomely. His thoughts caught as he smiled, drunk off the feeling of victory.  _ Finally. _ After all this time, his greatest foe turned to ash. He finally did it. He caught it.  _ He caught that abomination _ . That parasite would never again taint the world with its wretched existence. It would never touch Izuna again.  _ Never.  _

He loosened his hold on Amaterasu, its blackened flames a wave washing over his surroundings.. His lips creased into a smile, the desperation which had pushed him onwards lifted from his shoulders. Mangekyo Sharingan swirling, he lifted a leaden arm to wipe the blood flowing freely from his eyes. It was cathartic, this end. Cleansing. He felt lighter than ever, like breathing clean air after so long underground. It wasn’t finished though, not yet.

He slumped, rolling onto his back, his blank gaze met with the luminosity of the starry night sky up above. Madara wasn’t stupid, he knew that killing the Zetsu wouldn’t mean anything if the ideas it had planted remained. The poisoned seeds of ideals Zetsu had sown into the world throughout the  _ centuries _ , nurturing their twisted roots in this reality, to unroot them all would be unimaginably arduous. He would need to search every last nook and cranny within all the nations, to banish the last stains that the Zetsu left. Erase any trace of  _ its _ existence. But after that? After that he’d be  _ free. _

Free to concentrate on Hashirama, to support his dream this time. Madara tried it his way, and it did not work, didn't even come close to achieving their dream. He couldn't spark the fire they needed. While Hashirama’s did. His burned like an inferno, so brightly, so warmly that it had lasted generations, even going so far as to spread out to other countries, nations. The shinobi that fought him in the 4th war had all personified that timeless dream. They held it close to their hearts and  _ fought _ for it. Hashirama had created a will that lived within his people, and selfishly, he had wanted that. That kind of persistent devotion that burned brighter than even Amaterasu. And he would have it,  _ this time _ . Because this time he would not turn his back on Hashirama. Madara would stick to him, hold him close; his only anchor in this raging world.

_ Here I go, Hashirama. _

* * *

Hashirama ran like he never had before, his legs burned, its muscles pushing past their limits.  _ Finally. _ Word had reached him that Madara was fighting someone. He has never been a sensor like his brother, but even he could feel the intensity of Madara’s chakra chakra, bathing the vicinity with its energy. It seems like the entire mile radius was blanketed by his chakra. What could he be doing?  _ Who is he fighting? _

Hashirama skidded to a stop, mere inches from dashing head first into the sea of burning black flames. Peering grimly through the flames to regard the battlefield, all he could see were towering flames of black,  _ everywhere. _ Its billowing towers of flames darkened all in sight. He squinted, looking for Madara’s distinctive, untamable mane. The earth was uptorn, marks of a horrendous battle spread out before him doused in dark flames. His heart constricted in his chest.  _ Where is Madara? _

A clang of a blade hitting hard soil caught his attention. Past the licking black flames he finally saw Madara, panting, collapsing onto his knees. Hashirama started to walk towards him, picking his way through the rustling flames carefully. He’d been burned by Madara’s flames before, and it was something he doesn't want to experience ever again.

Hashirama’s heart jumped to his throat as he saw Madara fall. Disregarding the flames surrounding him, he summoned a wave of chakra, using Mokuton to propel himself over the burning landscape. He fell on his knees beside Madara, frantically checking him over. He was drenched with blood, his face caked with the crimson liquid, mane soaked, with rivulets of red dripping down and pooling on the ground beneath him. 

Madara opened his eyes the moment he started checking him for injuries. Silently regarding him as he powers up a medical jutsu to do a sweeping diagnostic. Broken bones, multiple lacerations, chakra exhaustion. His lips flattened to a grim line.

“When you told me you’re hunting someone, I didn't expect it to be like this.” Hashirama rumbled as he started to heal what he could.

Madara stayed silent, his eyes locked onto his face, watching his every move.

“I rushed here as soon as I heard.” Hashirama continued, needing to voice it out loud. “That was incredibly reckless, Madara.” 

“... nobody else needs to be involved.” Madara finally whispered. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, slid shut.

Hashirama frowned down at him. It was alarming that somebody could reduce Madara to such a state. He’d never seen him this battered before.

“Were you successful?” 

Madara snorted, “Oh yes. That  _ pest _ is gone now. Good riddance.”

“Good.” He said, voice tight with worry, “Not so much as a word of you for a year and then suddenly  _ this? _ ” He shook his head full of exasperated fondness. “Madara, I don’t think my heart can take anymore shock.”

Madara turned his head slightly to look at him again, his eyes going wide “...what?”

“You propositioned me in our last conversation. I did not want to take advantage of your inebriated state so I did not do anything-”

“You kissed me!” Madara blurted out, cheeks starting to turn red.

“Yes, I did.” Hashirama nodded matter-of-factly “-but you fled before I could tell you more.”

“...what?” Madara prompted impatiently, “Tell me  _ what? _ ”

There was a beat of silence that stretched between them before Hashirama finally answered. “I’d love to. Granted, I’ve never done that with a man before but you’re my best friend and we can figure it out.”

Madara sputtered, his words catching around the glowing hope that had lodged itself in his throat.

“How are we supposed to get together if you’re going to do reckless things like this?” Hashirama scolded him. “If you’re going out on a hunt like this, at least have someone there to back you up, I do  _ not _ want to hear about your death, Madara. I don’t know what I’ll do if it happens.”

“I- you- how-  _ what? _ ” Madara stuttered, mind stuttering to a halt with disbelief. 

“Are you going out on a hunt again?” Hashirama asked him.

Madara blinked. Mind unable to follow Hashirama’s thought process. “Well, yes. I do still need to finish tying up loose ends.”

Hashirama’s eyes went flinty. “Fine, I’m coming with you.”

“ _ WHAT? _ ” His voice boomed with incredulousness.

“I am coming with you, Madara.” Hashirama pressed determinedly. “What if you ended up like this again? Who’s going to heal you? I just told you, I will not hear about your death, Madara. Not ever. I’m the only one allowed to reduce you to such a state.” 

Madara gaped at him, mind failing to process what he had just heard, blinking repeatedly. Did Hashirama just say…?

“Now, I’ve healed all I could, for now. You should be free to move around now.”

“... move? Why?”

“We need to leave now, Madara.” Hashirama regarded him seriously. “You were throwing around chakra like nobody’s business in that fight. And I have no doubt a lot of shinobi’s are going to be drawn here soon. We need to leave before they find us here. You’re in no state to be fighting again so soon.”

“Oh. I- okay.” Madara surrendered.  _ He was too tired _ to fight with Hashirama. It was better to just go with what he wants.

“Great. Let’s go.” Hashirama helped him stand, slinging one arm around his shoulder to better support him before starting to pick his way through Amaterasu's flames.`

Madara couldn’t help but think, as his mind drifted, that destroying Zetsu’s corrupting influence would be interesting with Hashirama around. He would no doubt ask questions soon. Madara dismissed his worries with a sigh. For now, he would rest...

_ He’s so tired. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh yeah. So, I guess i'll put the thing here then.
> 
> Sporadic Updates. My job is slowly killing me. >.<

**Author's Note:**

> Yo guys! This is my first foray in fanfic in years so be kind to me please. Quarantine is doing a lot to us and this is the effect on me. :))
> 
> Edit: I have a [Discord Server](https://discord.gg/pf39SDd) if you want to join and hang out. :))


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